Not going to waste much time

there is so much information I can dump on here, but I don't care to rehash all of it, so this is what I have to say: Making your children your first priority does not mean leaving them while they are frightened and crying, screaming and pleading with you not to go. Who cares how far you have to drive.  Who cares that you don't want to spend the night in this house. Who cares? because it should be your child and his needs that you care about; not your own.  HA! you want them for a day or a weekend when you can't even console or take care of them for a night. Make your choices and stick with them, but I am sick of your lip service when your actions fall short time and time again.  Either be a dad or don't. As for now, don't bother showing up until you know how to make these children your top priority.

I've received the answers I have been searching for.  Really just clarification that I don't need to doubt myself, but that I have had the answers all along. 

Chapter Twenty Eight: Adjusting, or not

I have been working on this memoir for years and it has been cathartic and a blessing to watch it come together.  I was surprised when after finishing this chapter I saw my typed page count was at 127 pages.  So thank you as always for reading and for your encouragement as I tell my story as I see it.

Chapter Twenty Eight: Adjusting, or not

It was nothing short of touching and angelic when Amellia was brought home and her big brother Dorian got to hold his baby sister for the first time.  For months people warned me to beware of Dorian and a jealousy that was bound to develop with the arrival of the baby, but Dorian from day one put those comments to shame as he immediately became Amellia’s advocate and protector.  He was always asking to hold the baby and was generously giving her kisses at all times, but what melted my heart and proved the compassion of my little man was when I saw he selfless act of kindness: after the fire Dorian attached to a blanket that he quickly became inseparable with.  He lovingly named it his Knock.  He would become enraged and inconsolable whenever the beloved blanket needed to be washed and was never willing to share it with me or with his dad.  One day while I had walked into the other room to get a drink Amellia began fussing.  When I came back into the room Dorian was placing his Knock on his sister and rocking her chair saying “Ok baby. No cry” 

Moments like these kept me grounded even though I still felt as though my world was a swirling whirlwind.  Although Amellia was an easy baby, as I didn’t have to worry about a protein allergy like I did with Dorian, transitioning from two children to one was difficult for me.  In fact, It was more difficult going from one child to two than it was adjusting to motherhood with one.  For the last two years Dorian and I spent our days one on one.  Even though Dorian and I had been evenly numbered, one on one, I still had days that I was overwhelmed.  To now be out numbered two to one was something I was not readily prepared for.  Dorian, being only two still required a lot of assistance including diaper changing’s, help with feedings, and constant stimulation and interaction.  To then add the needs of an infant on top of that was downright overwhelming.  I had such a difficult time leaving the house as I was fearful of attempting to manage both kids, out of my environment, in public.  I felt constantly ganged up on as all day long I was expected to give and give and give, meeting these growing humans’ needs.  I loved my children and the role of mother, but such love comes at a cost of our time, emotions and some days, our sanity.

I tried reaching out to Josh; I tried to communicate my difficulties, but it was obvious Josh was drowning as well.  He would come home and interact with the kids for a short while, but his patience was shorter than I had ever seen it when dealing with the children and he seemed to hit his threshold after only an hour or two before he would turn on a video game and lose himself in it.  His temper was short and little things seemed to set off an anger I had not seen very often.  I tried not to get lost in the stress the way I had after the fire and the miscarriage and again tried to reach out to Josh.  I tried not to demand time or attention from him, but would sit by his side and help him watch his life bar while he played.  I had already learned what would happen if I pushed him too much, so instead, I tried to show him love all the ways I knew how, but it was very clear that that chasm I had experienced between us seemed to now be an impenetrable wall.  I began to doubt there was a way to fix our relationship as I felt I was the only one trying to save it.  I continued to reach out in small ways by sending Josh to work with goodies, buying card packs for a game he played, or even making meals I knew he would enjoy, but all of that became lost to the tension and contention that seemed to permeate in our bedroom each night. 

After getting the children in bed, I would take the time to read a lesson for church or my scriptures.  It was a habit that somehow led to discussions or discontent.  As I sought to always learn more and keep the spirit I felt from my religion with me, I felt Josh was doing the opposite.  I didn’t understand how something so precious to the both of us could just be forgotten, distrusted and discarded.  The simple truths we had agreed on for years were now being explained away and his explanations just didn’t make sense to me.  I felt confused as I tried to understand his loss of faith and unintentionally, I made him feel I was judging him, making him feel like I was telling him he was not good enough. Oblivious to this fact thought I struggled, wanting only to understand in the hopes that we could move on despite this huge difference in belief. 

There was no intimacy between me and my husband and it was a strange thing going to sleep next to this man I had been with for years and feeling like he was nothing more than a roommate and feeling lonely and lost even though I still had him by my side.  I never gave up hoping that he would roll over and hold me.  Kiss me.  Tell me he loved me.  Because if he would do that, then that meant there was still something worth fighting for.  He never did though.  And stubbornly, still I hoped.  If for no other reason then because the kids deserved having a mom and a dad.  I was trying so hard mentally to let go of the religious differences that still haunted me.  I was willing and working on letting that disappointment go so because despite this deepening disconnect with Josh, I still loved him.  I knew I would always love him.  So despite it all, I hoped this little family of mine could still be victorious over this invisible force trying to ruin it all.

So, even thought it was difficult and I wore out and got frustrated and fatigued, I did the best I could every day.  I loved and played with my kids, I kept house and I tried to let my husband know I loved him.  Day after day after day.  I truly believed that as long as I was doing everything I could, eventually everything would right itself.  Then reality hit.  And reality taught me that unless both people are involved in a relationship, it will fall apart.  This reality hit me one night when I was very close to drifting off to sleep and I finally got what I had been hoping for.  Josh had rolled over and was touching my body in ways I had longed for.  He was intense and loving and I relished his touch.  Yet, something in the back of my mind nagged at me harshly, that before I even know why I was saying it, I whispered, “Say my name.” 

“Tasha.” Was the name he whispered back to me.

I sat up enraged and feeling like I needed to vomit.  My movements woke Josh up and he began to piece together what had happened, trying to back pedal and explain why he would utter her name in our bed, but there no excuse other than the obvious: It wasn’t me he wanted to be with.  The sting of it made me sick, especially as out newborn slept only feet from out bed in her crib.  I demanded he leave my bed and my bedroom, which he did once again with no objection.  He collected his clothes for the next day and his pillow and walked out of the room, leaving me there to sob most the night for the betrayal I felt.  I hated myself for believing him when he said she was only just a friend, but I hated myself even more for justifying his emotional affair with her teaching myself to think that it was an emotional attachment, at least it wasn’t physical because what happened tonight proved those thoughts were very wrong as for him, in his mind it was physical as well.  This, by far, was the most hurtful thing Josh had done to me yet.  This went beyond the lying and the betrayal of our religion, this was very much a personal attack against our love; the very thing I had built my life around.  How could I still make myself still believe he loved me?  Yet, how could I walk away from the marriage when my relationship with Josh was the one constant in my life?  When it was what I was comfortable with, despite our emotionally bereft marriage?  How was I supposed to accept and let go of the one things that for years made me feel like I was worth something?  Nothing about this seemed fait to me and I seethed and loathed at his selfishness because how dare he do this to me.  To the kids!

The next morning I confronted him, enraged.  He promised he wasn’t still talking to her, that it was just a dream.  One he admitted was wrong, but just a dream.  I was not pacified with his explanations.  After he had already admitted to loving this woman, how could I get over his obvious physical desire for her?  This was still an emotional affair if even in his sleep he wanted that closeness with her rather than me.  I felt as if I dagger had once again been thrust into my heart and before I knew what I was doing, I was packing a suitcase for me and the children.  All day long while he was at work, I packed and cried, trying to gain the courage to just pack the car and leave, but I was scared.  Where would I go? What would I do? How could I be a single mom when even with his limited help I felt like I couldn’t do it?  I found myself yet again trying to justify his actions so that I wouldn’t feel forced to leave him.  After all, it was only a dream and you can’t control dreams.  Yea he had hurt me beyond anything I had experienced beforehand, but couldn’t he still apologize and prove to me once and for all he was sorry and that he did love me?  Was it really fair to the kids to walk out on their father due to my injured pride and broken heart? So instead of leaving as a part of my prompted me to, I stayed.  I prayed for strength for guidance and felt that if his apology seemed sincere and if he asked me to stay then I would, but that this had to be the last time I ever heard the name Tasha ever again. 

When Josh arrived home he saw my packed suitcases and I could see the anger cloud his face.  An anger I had grown very used to over the months.  I waited for him to start yelling at me so that I could then unleash all my furry, but instead we both stood silent.  Finally, he asked, “Are you leaving me?”

I let him know it al depended on him.  Again I waited for him to give me anything, but the silence pounded in the house along with the hurting hearts.  Finally, he began to talk about how he was sorry.  He wasn’t trying to hurt me.  Don’t go.  I shouldn’t be taking the kids away from him.  It wasn’t the sincere, heartfelt apology I had been hoping for, but it was enough to keep me from facing my fear of ending my marriage.  Although I had decided to stay, I wasn’t over the hurt or ready to unpack my suitcases just yet.

Weeks passed, but the hurt and anger between us remained the same.  I just couldn’t fix it on my own despite my best efforts as so rather than grow back together, I saw us spinning apart even further.  Desperate to survive my situation, I once again focused on the blessings that were my children, receiving joy from their innocence and love.  These sweet babies of mine gave me a purpose I had never felt in life before and while I was desperate in searching for hope in my relationship with Josh, I was validated and fulfilled in my motherly tasks, reminding me that despite it all, I knew in my heart I was doing what was right for my children.  I potty trained my son successfully soon after he had turned two and loved every day I got to see a new skill Amellia or Dorian develop.  Despite all the unhappy that troubled my heart, I was attempting to still find the good and the happy and I always found it within my children.

One evening while Josh and I sat silently next to each other, engaged in our own work Josh mentioned that the deadline to re-enlist had passed which meant he was getting out of the military.  My heart soared at once again having something to hope for.  Maybe, just maybe if we could get away from the bad influencing military friends and life Josh would be able to dedicate his time to our family and learn to love us all again.  Maybe this meant he still loved me if he was willing to give up the military after all.  With hope restored, I began looking forward to the quickly approaching Christmas season as this year maybe we could enjoy it without a tragedy, especially as we prepared for Amellia’s first holiday season. 

Day two

Toda is day two without communicating with the men in my life I have grown to rely on.  I have to admit I still think of them often, but already in day two I find thoughts and feelings coming to mind easier than they have in a while.  Today my day was filled with service as I did my visiting teaching, which means I visited three different women from my church to check up on and talk with them.  It was gratifying and fulfilling.  it was a reminder of how easy we all get caught up within ourselves, that having a day like today inspires me to do more.  For the last week or so I have been making a bunch of scarfs to donate to the meals on wheels as many of the recipients get nothing for the holiday.  The due date to turn in items is this Sunday so I am happy to have completed three scarfs, but am still hoping to get in more.  I finished my book I was reading Pure in Heart by Dallin H. Oaks and have begun a mediation class to help daily with clearing the mind, keeping ones mind and soul in tune as well as providing a link in which we allow ourselves to listen to the promptings of God.  I have been to the gym everyday this week and in short: I am happy.  It is interesting that the purpose of this was to gain answers and to focus on me, yet, I have realized while I am not preoccupied with myself I have begun to find the things I am seeking for.  Especially now as I write this, I have an overwhelming sense of gratitude for so many people.  Laura R: you reached out to me when I needed a friend most.  You encourage, inspire and remind me of what love it. Telesa: Your sweet, generous heart knows no bounds and your reaching out to me so often over the years was the lifeline I was looking for.  You were an instrument of the Lord to remind me what love and family are for. Brad: "you were my rock, never my stepping stone." You push me to always be the best person I can be, while loving me for who I am. Thick or thin, I know you will always be there and that gives me a comfort I have been seeking for. Matt: You help me see my divine potential.  The beauty I fail to recognize in body and spirit, you constantly bring to my attention, allowing me to see myself for the daughter of God that I am.  Your words bring me peace and hope which calms my loud cluttered mind. Lydia: I don't even need to tell you what you do for me, as you already know.  Spiritually connected, you are a part of me and a part I cherish (yes, that pun was intended)
I love you all.  All who read.  All who comment. All who support me.  Love.  That is what I am feeling and I want you all to know just how much I love you. I am truly blessed.

Two Weeks

So as you know, I have really been struggling lately with feeling inadequate and lost in my choices in life.  I am feeling this most taxingly in regards to my love life.  Today, however, I was able to admit to some character flaws that I struggle with and how that is affecting said area.  I have always struggled with low self esteem and while it is something I am working on, I notice that I still sometimes turn towards these special men in my life to validate that I am beautiful, special, etc.   Even while I was still married but a single mom, I found myself relying heavily on my male best friend that I have gotten so muddled in the head and doubting my own strength, path, inspiration, etc.  That in hopes to give me time to rely only on myself and my Lord I will be going two weeks without talking, texting, emailing or seeing any of my male friends.  I am hoping this will give me clarity within myself as I will be able to distribute my time to myself, my mediation and reflection that was interrupted by trying to divide what little free time I had with all these great people.  I am hoping I will see who it is I think of and where my feelings lie.  I am also aware there may even be a different scenario: I feel that as I seek the Lord out during this time, if I am to be led to someone different, this will be the time for that to happen as my mind will be opened and unoccupied with thoughts of another.  Basically, my focus is myself and to be honest, I am dreading it.  For two weeks I will not have my two best friends and that scares me.  I am scared of feeling alone.  I am scared of the depression that overtakes me when I feel abandoned.  I am scared of losing some connection with one of these friends.  I am scared to celebrate a holiday without these people who have helped me through so much. I am scared to be and feel on my own, but know in my heart this is something that needs to be done.  I know this may seem silly, what is two weeks right? but think about it.  These men are the closest thing I have to a husband and my children a father.  How easy is it when your significant other is gone that long?  It is a scary thing, but one I am determined to do. Ok; that's the update on my personal life.

H week

Monday: huffing horse



 

My son practicing his letter H for the first time.

Helping the huffing horse get to the hospital after being hurt by a hornet.

 Making a horse out of the letter H

Tuesday
As you can see preschool is always a fun time in our house.

After writing the letter H, we talked about what a hero was and who we consider to be a hero everyday.  Being Veteran's Day we wrote letters and drew pictures to a soldier we know, thanking him for being a hero

 

My son also said doctors were heros, which worked perfectly with my next activity as my son helped heal me as we played hospital.

We then played hero tag: to be the hero and help you had to hug and help someone :)

 Wednesday: Look at that H

 Tracing out H, h, h, hands

Making a hedgehog out of clay and spaghetti noodles

We used the sticky hand to play another kind of tag.  Once you hit someone with the hand, they were it.  The kids played this until the hand fell apart lol!

Thursday: hippo day

Made the letter H out of French fries

Made a hippo out of the letter H

Made a hippo out of a paper plate.

Then we played hungry hungry hippos

Friday: Review day!

I would ask which letter is letter...
which letter makes the ....sound
every time he answered correctly...

He got to place a decoration on the h, h, h, house!

G week

Preschool time again!

 

Monday: Giggling goose day

 

making a goose out of the letter G

Making a goose out of a paper plate

My son was the farmer trying to catch me and my daughter, the giggling geese.

 

 

Tuesday: Goat Day

practicing writing the letter G

 

Making a goat out of the letter G



Making a goat out of paper plates

Eating a goat snack of grapes and graham crackers

while the kids ate their goat snacks, I read "The Three Billy Goats Gruff"

 My son then practiced his scissor skills by cutting out the goats.

My daughter the goat :)

Making a G out of grapes

Wednesday

 

Gluing grass onto the letter G 

we read about a kitty who had a special job of protecting the farmer's grain.  We talked about what grain was...

then we made a grain for snack time: Grits!

mmmmmmm

We finished of the day as my son got to pick any g, g, game he wanted.  So we played Sesame Street Chutes and Ladders.

Thursday

 

Look at those Gs



Spray painted some rocks so that my son could dig for Gold!

both kids LOVED this activity!

We then colored a grasshopper green

we talked about how green means GO. so we played red light and green light.  I was really impressed with how long my son wanted to play this.